


That Sound

by Bashfyl



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Belt fetish, M/M, Marking, Not Canon Compliant, mentions of spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:20:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2479550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bashfyl/pseuds/Bashfyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Gah!" Stiles thought to himself. His heartbeat beginning to race. His face heating from that sound. Stupid Derek, with his perfect everything, and fuck everyone else for leaving him to work with Derek, and fuck whatever was making the weather so cold that Derek had to wear an undershirt. An undershirt he tucked into his pants, which meant undoing his belt and making that sound! Watching his large hands smooth the shirt down into his pants. Wondering if today was one of the days he was going commando.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr gif of Derek writhing on the floor showing off both his belt and his crotch ;)

"Gah!" Stiles thought to himself. His heartbeat beginning to race. His face heating from that sound. Stupid Derek, with his perfect everything, and fuck everyone else for leaving him to work with Derek, and fuck whatever was making the weather so cold that Derek had to wear an undershirt. An undershirt he tucked into his pants, which meant undoing his belt and making that sound! Watching his large hands smooth the shirt down into his pants. Wondering if today was one of the days he was going commando. 

"Fuck" he thought as Derek began doing up his pants, his belt making that Fucking sound again. All Stiles could think of were his fantasies about that sound and that belt. What it would be like to be naked in Derek's bed on his hands and knees, waiting and hearing that sound and the sound of the belt sliding against the fabric of his jeans as it slides out of his belt loops. Wondering if today would be the day that he used the belt to tie Stiles' hands to the bed frame and fucked him like he was his own personal toy or if today would be a day when he decided Stiles had crossed a line and needed to be punished, to be reminded who his alpha was. The cool leather of the belt sliding softly down his spine and over his ass, a warm hand on his skin, the sound of the belts buckle clanking, metal on metal as it cuts through the air just before he feels the lash of it on his ass, over and over again until his ass is nice and red and he doesn't know anything but "Derek" and "Please!" And he isn't sure if he is asking him to stop or to keep going. His breathing and heartbeat speed up as he gets lost in his fantasy, staring at Derek's belt. 

Derek notices the way Stiles' heart speeds. He pauses in dressing to look over at Stiles. When he sees how still Stiles has become he starts over to him, afraid for a moment that he is on the verge of a panic attack. Halfway there he is hit by the strong scent of arousal coming from the boy. Stiles always smelt of arousal but Derek had never thought it was directed at him. He stops and really looks at Stiles, at how he is sitting leaning forward, obviously hard, eyes dilated, mouth slightly open, face flushed, and staring at Derek's pants? 

Derek walks toward him, stopping with his crotch just in front of Stiles face. Being that close to Derek's crotch is enough to startle Stiles out of his fantasy.

"Oh God," he says quietly. Embarrassed color flooding his cheeks at being caught fantasizing about Derek by Derek.

"Just let me go," he says.

Derek leans down and reaches out to tip Stiles head up so he can look him in the eye. "Me getting dressed, that's what does it for you?" Derek asks.

Stiles thinks about lying, he thinks about evading, but for once they are alone and Derek is asking, and he doesn't want to look back and always regret, so he goes with honesty. I mean what's the worst that could happen, right?

"Your belt!" He says, "the sound your belt buckle makes has been driving me crazy for years, Derek, years. Every time I hear it all I can think about is all of the things you could do to me with it. The marks you could leave on my body, marks I would feel for days and when the fabric of my clothes brushed against them they would sting and remind me, and anyone who saw them, who I belong to, who my Alpha is, and how they got there!"

As Stiles pauses for a breath he is yanked up, Derek's hands wrapped around his biceps. Derek looks into his eyes and says, "Who you belong to?" His voice husky. "I'm not an alpha anymore Stiles." He says.

"Yes, who I belong to. It's always been you. It always will be you. You have always been my Alpha, you always will be My Alpha." 

Derek is helpless against these words combined with the scents Stiles is giving off, the look in his eyes, and the conviction in his voice. He pulls the younger boy against him and kisses him. His arms wrapping around Stiles, one hand tangling in his hair, the other stroking up and down his back. Stiles' arms go around Derek. One hand stroking up his jaw line, enjoying the sensation of stubble on his hand, fingers grasping the back of Drreks head. They kiss until they are both breathless, neither wanting to let go now that they finally have their hands on each other. Derek burrows his face into Stiles' neck, nuzzling and breathing him in. 

"Mine?" He asks.

"Yours" Stiles replies while rubbing his cheek against Derek's.

Derek slides his hands down Stiles' back until he can grasp his thighs and pick him up. Once he has Stiles well in hand he walks him over to the bed and crawls on to it with him, letting Stiles fall back onto the pillows, Derek sprawled on top of him.

"So tell me more about the fantasy you got so lost in," Derek asks as his hands work to unbutton Stiles' shirt, dropping little nips and kisses along his jaw. So Stiles does what Stiles does best and talks and talks. They never do make it to patrol that evening or for the rest of the weekend and if Stiles forgets to think of a good excuse for all the marks he is wearing come school on Monday morning, well at least he thinks fast on his feet.


End file.
